A soft female voice reached my ears, stirring me from a deep sleep.
"My Lord, please wake up."
My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim light filtering into the room. A slight wave of panic gripped me as I looked around the unfamiliar space, but I forced myself to remain calm and think rationally.
Something was off, everything around me was new, different, and foreign. Then, without warning, a sharp pain split through my head, flooding my mind with a rush of fragmented memories, ones that clearly didn't belong to me.
The young maid, noticing I was awake, bowed politely and left the room without another word.
I sat upright on the grand bed, the name that now echoed in my mind was Malrik Valeborne, heir to the noble House Valeborne and the newly appointed Duke after his father's death during a border skirmish against an enemy faction known as the Skyborn.
It was currently the year 1414. The political climate was tense, whispers of an all-out war growing louder each year. Based on this body's memories, I had roughly two decades before the conflict would explode into chaos.
As I pieced together more information, I tried to reach out mentally.
"Xeroth?"
[Here.]
A mechanical voice answered me, calm and precise.
"So you're here too... What exactly happened to us? Everything is fuzzy."
[There was a critical accident during the artifact research experiment. The ensuing explosion resulted in total loss of life and structural collapse. Your consciousness was transferred in the process.]
I sighed, resting my head in my hand.
"We shouldn't have messed with those artifacts... but curiosity always wins in the end."
[Indeed. However, your current status is significantly different. Based on available data and memory synchronization, you are no longer human. You belong to a species known as the Demar—descendants of ancient abyssal beings in this realm of Myrion.]
"Scan this body, Xeroth. I want a complete readout. Use any information you have, cross-referenced with these memories."
[Initiating scan. Processing...]
[Name: Malrik Valeborne
Race: Pureblood Demar — Lineage: Valeborne, Umbra
Title: Duke of House Valeborne
Age: 180
Class: High (via Ether Core Reserves)
Etheric Power: 76
Strength: 14
Agility: 20
Endurance: 27
Inherited Traits: Shadowflame (Umbra Line)
The Maw (Valeborne Line) – Sealed
Abilities: Demar Arcanum – Adept Tier]
"So the scale uses a base-1 system where 1 is the maximum human potential. That makes me 14 times stronger than a human, 20 times faster, and almost 30 times more durable. Still, this isn't enough. Xeroth, analyze the general power ranges of the various noble castes."
[Estimation complete: Low-Tier: 1–15 Mid-Tier: 30–50 High-Tier: 75–99]
"Thought so. I barely qualify for High-Tier due to my ether reserves and noble bloodline, but my physical capabilities are pathetic. In close combat, any skilled brawler from the Mid-Tier could wipe the floor with me."
It was a common issue among the noble Demar—overreliance on inherited power with minimal attention to actual combat training. I needed to fix that.
"I've probably got about twenty years before this war begins. As a noble duke, I'll definitely be on the front lines. If I stay like this, I'll be cannon fodder. At best, I'll survive without distinction; at worst, I'll die pointlessly."
I stood, stretching the unfamiliar muscles of this new body.
"My top priority is to condition this body, to make it worthy of a true warrior. I'll push my physical limits to the peak of High-Tier and work toward reaching the next class entirely. If I can achieve what they call Sovereign-Class power, I'll be a key player in this coming war. And with enough merit, House Valeborne might rise even further."
"Xeroth, begin drafting a comprehensive training regimen focused on physical conditioning and close-quarters combat. I'll divide my day between that and studying the Arcanum to push my spell mastery."
[Affirmative. Preliminary design will require one week for optimization.]
I moved toward the mirror, pausing to examine myself.
Malrik Valeborne, tall, broad-shouldered, with crimson hair flowing to the middle of his back, tied loosely behind his head. His eyes shone a sharp steel-blue, and despite not being physically honed, his presence exuded quiet nobility. There was potential, raw, unshaped, but immense.
A small smirk curled at my lips. This life held opportunities. With strategy and force, I could rise.
I dressed quickly and made my way toward the dining hall. For now, I had no duties aside from governing the territory, an easy task for someone with my knowledge and new resources.
This week would be the beginning of my training. I was done being a pampered noble. I would become the strongest.
"I will rise to the top," I whispered to myself as the door closed behind me.
Castle Draeven stood proud atop a jagged cliff, its obsidian towers overlooking the vast lands of the Valeborne Dominion.
Built by the first of the Valeborne line—my grandfather—it was both fortress and sanctuary.
Within its walls lived hundreds of servants and guards, maintaining peace and order across our expansive domain.
Our territory bordered a delicate neutral zone, a narrow strip of land that separated us from the territory of the Skyborn.
Because of this proximity, minor conflicts sparked now and then, keeping tensions high.
At present, the celestial factions stood in an uneasy balance: the Radiant were dominant, we Demar held the middle ground, and the Skyborn lagged behind.
After enjoying a lavish breakfast, I headed straight for the one place I had longed to explore—the castle library.
When I opened its great doors, I was taken aback by the sheer scale of it. Towering shelves stretched toward the ceiling, stacked with what must have been tens of thousands of tomes.
It wasn't entirely surprising. The Valeborne line had long prided itself on its arcane legacy.
My grandfather, in particular, had been a renowned scholar and collector of rare magical texts, ranging from elemental manipulation to ancient racial arts like Faerie Incantations and Rune-Based Enchantments.
I wandered through the rows, enchanted by the wealth of knowledge before me.
"Knowledge truly is power," I murmured, drawing a book on Gravity Manipulation from a high shelf with a flick of my fingers and a whisper of ether.
Among the Demar, magic was driven by will. Imagine the effect, pour in etheric power, and the world obeyed.
Learning to bend gravity would not only benefit my physical training but serve as a versatile combat asset.
With the help of Xeroth, the super AI bounded to my mind, I could absorb knowledge at an extraordinary rate.
I studied tirelessly for hours, learning the structure of gravitational runes and how to amplify local gravity up to tenfold.
What began as a few hours extended into days. I shut myself away for an entire week, reading from morning to night.
Magic, to me, was just another science, governed by its own logic and laws. Whether it was our racial arcana or the highly structured rune-craft of the Northern Orders, I devoured it all.
Spells were tested and practiced within the castle's empty side halls. Time passed quickly until Xeroth finally interrupted my studies.
[Training protocol finalized.]
Closing the tome in my lap, I stretched, sore but satisfied. I needed a bath.
A week immersed in study had left me covered in dust and ink. After a quick soak, I made my way to the private training yard behind the castle.
I raised my hand, forming a bright yellow rune in the air. A crack of lightning shot forward, striking a training dummy with devastating force, leaving little behind.
"Northern Runes... definitely harder to master than Demar magic, but the payoff is massive," I muttered.
Thanks to consistent use, my etheric reserves had risen by four points. A modest but encouraging gain.
Next, I practiced Gravity Manipulation. A violet circle bloomed beneath me, and I felt the weight of the world press down. My limbs grew heavy; movement slowed.
"Tenfold gravity... this will be perfect."
I released the spell and sat down on the stone floor.
"Xeroth, let's go over the training regimen."
[If followed precisely, your body can reach the peak of Mid-Tier within one year, strength, speed, and endurance all around 50. This projection is based solely on high-intensity physical training under enhanced gravity.]
"That's excellent for a year's progress. The real war probably won't start for another two decades. What about pushing beyond, into High-Tier?"
[There are three methods. First: study Chi disciplines—Vital Essence Focus and Life Force Mastery—allowing life force manipulation to enhance the body. Second: refine your Demar energy to reinforce your form, requiring a power level at Sovereign-Class. Third: alchemical enhancement, using elixirs created from blood of powerful beasts.]
I leaned back, considering. Learning Vital Essence Focus and Life Force Mastery would be near-impossible.
The Demar lacked knowledge of such arts, and even if someone knew, teaching it would be unlikely.
On top of that, not everyone could master such techniques.
The second option was promising, but I needed to first push my energy reserves far beyond their current limits.
That left alchemy, my best bet. With Xeroth's help, learning alchemy would be easy. I had resources, knowledge, and wealth.
Finding the necessary ingredients wouldn't be hard.
"So that's where we begin."